Man of Iron

What is the measure of a man?

Is it the spirit in his heart?

Or the fruit of his labours?

Listen, gathered readers, to the unheard tale of an unheard soul. Many were his deeds, yet you may read them with credit to someone else.

This man, or boy, not only rose against all odds, but also took the greatest hit of all: ungratitude.

It seemed all so simple. A simple 'thank you' would suffice. But apparently, it doesn't matter.

well Bahumbug. i shouldnt be asking for gratitude. all i wanted was the world to be right for a change.

Just wish that for once, Hannah would turn around and stay with me when i say, "Hsing Shan, you worthless piece of slag, shut the bloody fuck up before you replace Huzaifah"